


An Arm and a Leg

by BigKaiju



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Amputation, Because they're friends now, Blood, Brief mention of maggots, Friendship, Graphic Description of Gangrene, Infection, Knives, graphic description of amputation, how could you not be?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 15:27:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7468974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigKaiju/pseuds/BigKaiju
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Junkrat’s used to being chased, being hunted, being fought. He’s used to the dirt and the grime of Junkertown. It’s how he’s lived his whole life, and now that he has his treasure… he’s used to being a target. So, he hires Roadhog, to protect him, keep him safe. He thinks maybe... maybe they have a different definition of "safe."</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Arm and a Leg

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Kabobs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7110043) by [brickinthewall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brickinthewall/pseuds/brickinthewall), [Maximum124](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maximum124/pseuds/Maximum124). 



> So... this is very, very similar to Kabobs by brickinthewall.  
> I just couldn't stop thinking about it, and I had to get it out of my head.  
> This whole thing actually started as a headcanon discussion with a friend, and I just... kept going. The original was written in Tumblr Messenger, so I tried to format this as best as possible. Sorry for any grammar or tense problems, I've edited this as best as I could.

Junkrat’s used to being chased, being hunted, being fought. He’s used to the dirt and the grime of Junkertown. It’s how he’s lived his whole life, and now that he has his treasure… he’s used to being a target. So, he hires Roadhog, to protect him, keep him safe. They get along alright.

Junkrat doesn’t know much about the guy. He doesn’t even know his real name. However, he does know that he’s huge, and tough, and never loses a fight. He knows Roadhog, and that’s just fine.

Just before hiring the guy, he got into a scrap. A big one. There were explosions everywhere and bullets flying. He got hit a few times. The worst of it was the guy with the machete, he got a few good chops in. It had been a week, maybe two since then. Junkrat can feel the wounds itching, but nothing too terrible. He thinks so anyway.

Really though, the injuries got infected, to the point where he developed gangrene. He's missing skin and the muscles are rotting in on themselves. Bone is exposed. But that’s fine, he’s got them all wrapped up, so it’s fine. Obviously.

Roadhog notices how much Junkrat is limping. Something is wrong. He suggests they take a break, just so they can sit. For a while. The best they can find is a shitty, cheap motel. Junkrat immediately throws himself onto the bed and removes his bandages. He’s convinced that he’s alright. They’ll heal on his own.

Roadhog refuses to sit. He’s thinking about what to do about those injuries. He knows how bad it is. He knows they have to be amputated. He doesn't know how to say it though. He JUST met this guy a few days ago, and there's no doctors in Junkertown. What else can he do?

He rummages through his bag and finds a wooden spoon. He can’t remember why he has it, but that doesn’t matter. He breaks that handle off and takes off his mask. He walks up behind Junkrat, who's picking at the infection. It's bleeding.

"Jamison?"  
"Nah, mate, like I said before, just call me Junkrat. What's up?"  
He doesn't even bother to look over his shoulder.

"Junkrat..."  
Roadhog sighs. How is he going to do this? Not with the hook. He has some knives in his bag. They’re all stolen. They would work.

He drops the mask in Junkrat's lap.  
"You wanted to look at this right?"

"Oh yeah, mate! Wanted to see how it worked."

Roadhog gives him the wooden handle of the spoon.  
"If you wanna wear it, you have to bite down on this. Keeps your jaw in place." That's a lie.

"Aw, thanks mate! Didn't think you would let me do this! We just met and all, but... this is real neat!"

Junkrat puts the mask on.  
It's a little too big, falling down over his eyes.

"Oi, how do you even see outta this thing mate?"  
He finally twists around to look up at Roadhog.

He only gets a short glimpse at his face before Roadhog is pinning him down. His hands are so large it only takes one to cover Junkrat's whole torso.  
Junkrat is confused.  
He doesn't understand what's going on. He can feel the bones in his bad leg grinding against each other, the broken skin on the outside making sickening cracking and popping noises. He can feel the blood and pus dripping from the open pockets of rotten skin. He can feel Roadhog's hands.

"Jamie..."  
Roadhog brings a knife down. It cuts through flesh easily. The sound is disgusting. Junkrat is screaming, louder than Roadhog has ever heard a person scream. Blood is spraying from the top of his leg, where the flesh is still healthy. Roadhog breathes in to keep his hands steady. The air smells like dust and blood and dead meat.

He reaches bone and Junkrat screams even louder. There’s resistance against the knife. Meat is no problem, but bone is another story. Roadhog wishes he could stop. He feels sorry, but he knows that this has to be done. It'll save both of their lives in the long run.

He cuts through, the blade finally hitting the blanket. It's stained horribly now. There's no use explaining that to the next person who uses the room.

Roadhog wishes he could be done. He wishes this was the last of it.

Junkrat is crying now, breathing heavily, trying to speak but all he can do is cough and whine.  
He's stopped thrashing, but Roadhog keeps his hand on his chest. He thinks, maybe it can be a little bit comfort for Junkrat. Just something to get him through this shitty situation.

"Jamie..."  
Roadhog repeats. He sighs heavily. He takes another deep breath and regrets it just as much as the first one. The smell has gotten worse.

Junkrat stills completely under his hand. He brings the knife down again, and he knows that he has to go slower this time. He can't afford to damage any nerves, not in his arm.

He uses the knife in a way that reminds him of who he is. He's ruthless, he's a killer. He knows it. But this? This is somehow... soft. Somehow caring. Suddenly, he feels nervous. What if he messed up? What if he slipped?

He doesn't care about hurting himself. He bares too many scars to care anymore. He cares about hurting Junkrat. He cares about Jamie. He's only known him for a few days, but he cares. Not just because he’s getting paid. For some reason… a reason that Roadhog can’t really explain just yet, he cares about Junkrat. He doesn’t want this to hurt him any more than it has to.

Roadhog reminds himself of the situation. He reminds himself to keep cutting. It's just like the last time. The knife isn't really meant to cut through bone, but he gets it. He reaches the blanket again. It's soaked in blood.

Roadhog picks up the dead limbs, both of them in one hand and looks at them. REALLY looks at them, for just a moment.

They look terrible. The leg has holes all the way through. The arm is missing all but two fingers and most of the palm of the hand. The skin on both is cold and gray, with patches of rotten green, and dark sickly black. The leg is covered with boils. They smell rancid.

Roadhog drops them on the floor, nothing more than food for maggots now, and grabs the leftover bandages from his bag. Now he's glad he decided to hold onto them. He bandages the stumps as quickly as he can, ignoring the blood on the floor, on the bed, on his hands.

He grabs two of his canisters of gas. He’s not entirely sure what the gas actually does, but he does know that it numbs pain and seems to speed up recovery. He also knows it tastes awful, but Junkrat is tough. He's sure of it now. He hooks one canister up to the mask.

"Breathe Jam- Junkrat."  
Roadhog pushes Junkrat's sweaty hair off of the mask.

Junkrat takes huge, shuddering breaths. He goes through both canisters. Roadhog finally removes the mask.

Junkrat bit the spoon handle in half, he has splinters in between his teeth and in his lips. Roadhog picks them out as gently as he can. Junkrat is obviously exhausted, all he can do is keep crying. His throat is raw from screaming.

Roadhog picks him up, careful to avoid the stumps, and sets him down softly in his lap. He doesn't bother putting his mask back on, it's full of sweat and spit. He watches Junkrat.

Finally, after what felt like too long, Junkrat speaks up.  
"Wh- What was that all about?"  
His voice cracks and it sounds like he's struggling to even talk.

Roadhog looks away.  
"They were infected. You were going to lose them."

Junkrat laughs.

How is he laughing? This isn't funny. Nothing about this is funny. But he keeps laughing. He laughs as loud as he can.  
"So... you were helping me, huh?"

Roadhog pauses. He has to think about what to say. Yes, it's true, he did help. But it doesn't feel like he did.  
"Yeah." That's all he can say.

"Well... thank you, I guess. Never thought I would be sayin' thanks to something like that, but I s'pose weirder stuff can happen. It really was bad... wasn't it?"  
"Yeah..."

"You really don't talk much, do ya?" Junkrat is looking up at Roadhog now. He's trying to get a good look at the guy.

Roadhog grunts.  
He looks down at Junkrat now. He looks down at his tear-streaked face, soaked in sweat and covered in splashes of blood. He’s a mess.

"We should get to some place where someone can clean that up. And you need replacements."

"Well... we do have the money for 'em!" Junkrat laughs.  
They both look over to the bag filled with money, valuables, and food.

"You should eat." Roadhog says, quietly.

"Yeah, alright." Junkrat looks up at Roadhog, as if to say _hey, I can't go get that by myself._ So, Roadhog reaches over, as carefully as he can, and drags the bag over to Junkrat.

“Do you want to sleep?” Roadhog asks.  
Junkrat shakes his head.

After Junkrat is completely done eating, Roadhog picks him up, as well as their bags, and walks outside.

He gets settled onto his bike, Junkrat resting against his stomach. He really should get a sidecar now.

As he's starting up the bike, he nudges Junkrat with one finger, to get his attention.  
"You deserve to know now..."

"What?" Junkrat asks, trying to remember what the hell he even asked about, or when he asked about it. He forgets a lot of things. That’s just how it is.

"My name is Mako."


End file.
